Companion In Blue
by TheNewJeniferChurch
Summary: Searching for an empty world on which to stretch his mind and collect his thoughts, the Doctor finds the lost colony of Pern and is changed forever by a new friend. Rating T for now due to draconic sexuality. May go up later, but I'm not sure.


**Companion In Blue**

_Author's Note: This story begins after "Planet of the Dead", and will go at least through the end of Series 7. He will not be going to Mars, because the insanity that caused him to mess around with a fixed point will no longer be an issue. The TARDIS took him to Pern instead. Not sure if I'm going to do "The Time of the Doctor" or not, but I've got plenty of time to decide that. As for Pern, I'm not interested in creating any paradoxes. The story will encompass two years of the Third Interval and all of the Fourth Pass before moving back into the Doctor's main time stream. The River Song loop still happens, because the Library already happened, but the Doctor is going to be a little different. Much of the story will be different due to the titular character of this story._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Oops**

The Doctor set his TARDIS down on the soil of a world he believed he would be able to be alone on, the failed colony world, Pern. Colonized by peace-seekers after the Nathi Wars of the First Great Human Empire, the colonists had found that their peaceful little world had a dark secret; an environmental plague that came in cycles of two hundred and fifty years and lasted for fifty years at a time. The planet's ecology would always recover in the intervening years, but the colonists' first encounter with it had proven to be their last. They had launched their SOS beacon, but it hadn't been discovered until the threat had passed and by that time there were a mere eleven souls remaining, a single family who had made their home in the mountains, underground where the Threads, which was what the menace was called, couldn't reach. That family did not a colony make, not having enough biological diversity among them to continue in any meaningful way.

It was a sad story, but it was a beautiful world in the times between plagues, and a beautiful empty world was what he craved right now and had asked the TARDIS to find for him. It was seven hundred and fifty-six years since the colonists had arrived on this world, and the scourge was due to begin again in a couple of years, but for now it was calm and peaceful. He hadn't landed in the southern continent, not wanting to see the ruins of the stillborn society, but in the north, where the colonists might have explored, but probably hadn't settled as much.

He stepped out of the TARDIS and took a deep breath of the fragrant air of early spring. Save that the gravity was just a tad lighter, this could have been an early Earth. Oh, there were differences. The grass blades had three edges instead of two, and the atmosphere was just a tiny fraction thicker, resulting in a slightly greener sky. He looked around for a tree to lay a blanket down under, and finding one, he walked over to it. As he watched the birds and the sky, he wondered almost automatically what Rose would say if she could see him like this.

Still-fresh pain ripped across his wounded hearts, but he ruthlessly squashed it. _It's your own fault! You sent her there. Better off with the human one, better off on the slow path. No matter how she fought to get back to you, no matter that she's paying for your mistakes, she and Donna both._

Trying to quiet his mind wasn't going to work, obviously, so instead he started a meditation cycle, reaching outward with his mind, away from his thoughts and memories, into the quiet world around him—and got the shock of his life. Over three thousand telepathic minds were on this planet! And close to a hundred thousand humans! What were they doing on an interdicted planet—unless—.

The Doctor got up and ran for the TARDIS, wanting to run a scan. Unless he was much mistaken, the reports of the Pern Colony's demise had been greatly exaggerated.

Suddenly a blast of ice-cold air came out of nowhere, followed by a great shadow passing over him. He looked up to see a huge bronze reptiloid with skeletal, membranous wings flying above him. The creature was just the color of old copper, with a long neck and tail that both sported bony ridges to serve as rudders in flight. The head was triangular, with two bony knobs behind the eyes, not unlike a giraffe's horns, and swirling green eyes covered by faceted corneas and protected by ridges of bone. He also noted that the end of the tail was forked. Finally, he noted that on the creature's back, just where the neck met the body, there was a human rider, secured by a series of leather straps and buckles. As he watched the pair in fascination, the creature banked right and began a landing approach, headed right for him.

The pair landed in front of the Doctor, and his eyes must have seemed huge as he stared in wonder, but they seemed used to that. The reptiloid sniffed at the Doctor curiously while his partner unhooked from his harness. He gulped and said, "Hello! Oh but you're beautiful!" The green in the creature's eyes spun a little faster in response, and he deduced that color and speed must be indicators of mood, as well as that he'd been understood. _Good!_

The rider slid to the ground. "Well, Wilth likes you, anyway, and that's a good sign. I'm K'gor, Wilth's rider and Benden Weyrleader. You've raised quite a stir."

"Yes, I imagine I did." He abashedly ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit. "That wasn't my intent, though. I thought this world was uninhabited, that its human colonists had all died within the first sixty years of landing here. Imagine my surprise when I find a thriving populace of humans and an undocumented telepathic species the size of a passenger aircraft." He grinned. "Not that I'm upset about it. This is extraordinary! I'm called the Doctor, by the way."

K'gor gave him a sideways look. "Wilth says you're not human."

"Well, I'm not. And the only reason he can tell is that he's telepathic, just as I am." He looked back at Wilth. "What are they called? As a race, I mean."

"Dragons. How did you come to be here? I mean, we know that humans came from somewhere else, and we found dragonkind here, but any other information has been lost. And I've got to ask; are there more of you here somewhere?" K'gor wasn't frightened, but he was a little worried. Whatever the title Weyrleader meant, it was plain he was in a position of leadership. He was worried about some kind of invasion.

"Nah," he said. "No more of me anywhere." He couldn't stop the small stab of pain that caused him, thinking about Gallifrey, but this man needed reassurance.

The emotional spike hadn't gone unnoticed, though. Wilth nudged him with his snout, and he couldn't help but grin._ Empathic, too_. And he'd known the Doctor needed a little cheering up. He'd also know if he, or anyone else, were lying.

K'gor nodded. "All right. Well, I think we have a lot to talk about. Would you like to join us for dinner at the Weyr?"

The Doctor thought about it for a moment. He could run the scans later. "That would be wonderful. Where is this Weyr?"

"North and east of the Eastern Barrier Range. Wilth and I will give you a lift."

The Doctor visibly swallowed, looking at the harness. It wasn't a lot of protection, and he had no idea of how long a flight this would be.

"Don't worry, Doctor. Travel adragonback is really quite quick. You'll only have to hold onto the harness belt for a few minutes."

He took a deep breath and nodded. "All right, then. Alons-y!" K'gor gave him a funny look, but didn't comment on the strange word. Wilth knelt down and placed his front leg where the Doctor could climb up. K'gor stood behind to make sure he got up without falling off, then followed him up with ease. "So, this Weyr is fairly close, then? Just over the horizon?" After all, biological flight could be quite fast, but there were limits.

K'gor grinned at him, but said nothing. He settled in and started buckling the harness to his belt. The Doctor saw the two thick, wide loops on the back of the belt. K'gor said, "Grab those loops for safety, but rest assured that Wilth will not let you fall."

And with that Wilth leapt skyward, his powerful wings beating the air to build lift. The Doctor was wrenched backward by his inertia, as he expected to be. But Wilth's flight path leveled out far more quickly, and therefore lower, than he expected. He wondered why such an obviously powerful flyer was at such a low cruising altitude.

_And then there was nothing!_ No sight, no sound, no sensation, save that of intense, mind-numbing cold! Ruthlessly, the Doctor squashed the panic that was trying to crush his mind. Then before he could even begin to analyze anything, they reentered reality—_in a new location!_ They were now flying toward an extinct volcano that had been carved up into a city. Teleport! The dragons were somehow able to teleport themselves and anything they were carrying! "You could have warned me!" he grumped.

K'gor's laughter drifted back to him, and it proved contagious. The Doctor chuckled at himself, and took the time to look at the Weyr from above. All along one end, great holes had been carved into the rock, and many of those holes had a dragon sitting in them. There were man-sized holes closer to the floor of the caldera, pens of animals on one side of the floor and a sandy area with an amphitheater on the other. The entire bowl was colored by the falling twilight, and pinpoints of candle- and lamp-light had started to appear within the various dwellings. This wasn't a technological society, but then it was never intended to be one. Whatever else had happened to these people, they had stuck with their original plan of an agrarian society. But he couldn't help but wonder what the threat of Thread had done to the development of that society.

Wilth fanned his wings and came to a landing on a ledge carved into the side of the bowl, behind which was a great cavern that was obviously meant to be the dragon's home, as well as that of his rider. There was a closed-off area made of stacked stone that contained a bedroom, privy and sitting room, and then there was a corridor that led further into the mountain. "This way, please, Doctor," said K'gor, leading him toward that tunnel.

He turned back and waved at Wilth. "See you later!" The dragon chuffed in response.

K'gor led him through the tunnel into the next chamber, which held a library and planning room with shelf upon shelf of parchment scrolls along three of the walls. Oil lamps burned in sconces at regular intervals, and the shelves were labeled by dates of some kind. In the center of the room was a big work table, with two more lamps and a pair of parchment maps of the northern continent of Pern. One was covered in diagonal patterns.

The back wall of the library held two more lamps, and another tunnel, and through this passage came a thirty-something woman with dark hair and flashing green eyes. "Well, he doesn't look dangerous." She didn't look as though she believed it.

"Wilth is sure, Doroba. I'd be a fool to gainsay my own dragon."

She glared at K'gor. "You're a fool any road." She turned her attention back to the Doctor. "I suppose he invited you for dinner?"

"He did. But I didn't come here to start trouble. I can leave if you want." He didn't want to. This place and its people were fascinating! But he didn't think he had the right to interfere in their lives. He'd done quite enough of that for the next century or two.

But Doroba's face softened a bit. "Never let it be said my manners were lacking. Dinner is just getting started, so there'll be plenty. Mind, we rarely have any left over, though. Too many bodies around here who think they're starving." She stopped, thinking. "On second thought, let's call down and have our food brought up here. You made quite a stir with that little knock, and we don't want to give tongues more of an excuse to wag than they've already got."

K'gor took the maps from the table, carefully rolling them and capping them with the scroll caps that were handy for that purpose, and the three of them took their seats. The Doctor began the conversation, not able to keep his enthusiasm down. "So, I read the original survey reports that led people to want to colonize this world, and they mentioned a small dragon-like creature, but with a wingspan of no more than three feet. Certainly nothing as large as your dragons. Where were they found?"

"They weren't," said K'gor. "We don't know how, but the oldest recordskins are clear that dragons were bred from the firelizards you're describing."

The Doctor's eyes flew open. "Really? But that's—" He stopped. "Ah. I think I know how. Your ancestors came here to start a new life after the horrible Nathi Wars decimated so many of the First Great Human Empire's star systems. They wanted away from the fighting and they wanted the simpler lives of farmers, herdsmen and miners. They didn't bring weapons, except for those used for hunting. But they brought the best of biotechnology, the ability to manipulate life at the smallest level to produce the greatest changes. They didn't know what they'd find, after all, and they needed to be prepared for any eventuality.

"One of the members of that colony was the famous Kit Ping Yung, the only human ever taught by the Eridani Beltrae Lifemasters. The Beltrae could build an ecosystem from bare rock, and they could manipulate any lower organism they cared to to produce sentient beings. When the Thread came—well of course they turned to her! And she took a local organism, already adapted to the threat, and redesigned them to be exactly what was needed! Brilliant!" And disturbing, but he didn't voice that. The abilities of the Beltrae were truly fearsome, and he'd never been a fan. But the colonists'd had a real problem, and there was no doubt that the dragons had saved lives, probably by putting their own at risk. He couldn't argue with that.

Doroba stared at him. "How—" she started to ask, but she was interrupted by a deep, rumbling hum that was coming from the dragons outside.

Concerned, the Doctor said, "What's wrong."

K'gor shook his head, grinning though still trying to wrap it around the Doctor's revelation. "Nothing's wrong. The eggs are Hatching!"

Irritated, Doroba griped, "And now, of all times!"

But K'gor smiled gently at her. "You can't order them when to Hatch, dear heart."

She rolled her eyes, smiled back at him, stood. "I know. My own Impression was a night Hatching, too." She shook her head, then said, "All right, come on. You're getting a treat tonight, Doctor. Few enough people get to witness a Hatching who aren't part of the Weyr. But you shouldn't miss it if you get the chance, either. Will you take him to the stands, love?" Then she left the way she had come, presumably to join her own dragon friend.

"So, the humming," prompted the Doctor.

"Is the dragons welcoming the next generation into the world." K'gor was still grinning, excited. "It's a time of celebration, and for those who Impress, one of great joy."

"Impress?"

"Come on. I'll get you to the stands and then I'll explain. I'm just glad this isn't Janeth's clutch, or Doroba would be even more irritable than usual." This he said quietly, because even though Doroba had left the room, sound sometimes echoed around in the stone hallways. "Wilth, take us down?"

_Of course._

The Doctor stared at the bronze dragon. He had yet to hear any dragon's telepathic voice, and he suspected their communication with humans was rare. "Thank you, Wilth."

Once again, human and Time Lord climbed onto the dragon's back, but this was a much shorter trip, the dragon simply landing in the amphitheater long enough for them to get off, and taking off again. Looking around, the Doctor could see hundreds of dragons all swooping around, gold, bronze, brown, blue and green, all humming to welcome the coming Hatchlings and all projecting excitement; a joyous noise in his ears and mind.

K'gor sat next to him. "When a dragon Hatches," he explained, "they seek out a human to Impress on. It's such a magnificent feeling, the first time your dragon touches your mind. You know in that moment that you'll never again lack for a friend or advocate. The love of a dragon is so bone deep and pure that they will die if their rider dies. The opposite is often also true, though if the rider can be surrounded by friends and family, they sometimes survive. But it is an existence of constant pain, and most don't think it's worth it."

The Doctor frowned. That almost sounded like a spousal bond, like the ones ancient Gallifreyans would use before the rise of the Time Lords and the curse of Pythia. He'd actually been thinking of attempting one with Rose before Canary Wharf. But this was obviously not a sexual bonding; this would be more like a sibling bond.

He had plenty of other questions about the dragons, though. "What's the differences between the colors? I've noticed the size difference, of course, but is anything else different?"

K'gor nodded. "The queens, which are the gold dragons, and the green ones are the females. The other three colors are male. Their size usually indicates how well they'll do in a mating flight, although there are always surprises. Sometimes a big brown will catch a junior queen, and sometimes a blue will outsmart the browns in the chase for a green. When it comes to a mating flight that will decide the leadership of a Weyr, we've noticed that the rider most people want to be the Weyrleader is more likely to win that contest, even if they seem to be at a physical disadvantage. The riders' preferences also affect things. I've seen permanent pairings form, where a queen dragon will only ever let a specific bronze catch her. And among the female dragons, only a queen lays eggs. The greens are infertile." He shrugged. "On the other hand, greens are able to chew firestone and flame, but queens are not. That's why they have flamethrowers."

"So the mating of the dragons determines the leadership of the Weyr?"

"Yes. The rider of the senior queen and the rider of the dragon who catches her are the Weyrleaders for that Weyr. There are six Weyrs across Pern. This is Benden, and the others are Fort, Igen, Telgar, Ista and High Reaches. Each protects the Holds and lands within their territory and are in turn provided tithes by the Holds in the form of food, herdbeasts and supplies."

The Doctor nodded. "Very sensible. Can't be trying to protect the planet and grow your own food at the same time. Oh, I have so many questions about this planet! The Holds you mentioned, are they—"

"Hey, there come the Candidates." K'gor was pointing to the sands and the Doctor turned to pay attention to the spectacle below him.

Sixty eggs littered the sands, their mother guarding them and hissing at the approaching young people. They were teenagers all, and the golden dragon was large and frightening. But the Candidates showed her respect and she seemed mollified. Three of the eggs were larger and more luminescent than the rest, and the seven girls of the group encircled those. The boys all went to the bulk of the eggs. The Doctor noticed that the number of Candidates was roughly twice that of the number of eggs.

Suddenly the loud, low hum of the dragons silenced and a clear crack sounded into the intense quiet. A single egg, one of the main grouping, shattered, falling away from its occupant in six or seven large pieces. The little dragon, bronze in color, staggered and wobbled, and he realized that this was somewhat dangerous. The baby had strong claws, and he was looking, searching for the right person to join his mind to. No one who was the wrong person would be safe if they were in his way. "Do they know to get out of the way?"

K'gor nodded, his eyes never veering from the action below. "We train them for weeks before, let them get used to the idea, drill with younger riders pretending to be hatchlings. If we didn't it would get dangerous very quickly."

The baby dragon stumbled, and might have accidentally killed the boy in front of him, but the lad showed quick thinking and jumped sideways. Then he moved to help the baby up, and looked into his rainbow eyes. There he seemed caught until joy suffused his face, and he threw his arms around the little dragon's neck. He shouted, "He says his name is Saketh!"

From that point on, the Hatching quickly became chaotic, with dragons Hatching and Impressing all over the sand. The first queen egg Hatched and was Impressed by a young woman with straight black hair. Within less than half an hour, all the Hatchlings had Impressed but one, a rather small blue. He was wailing, trying to find his one person, but though he was approached by all the unimpressed boys, he found none of them suitable. The Doctor wondered what would happen to the poor thing if he could not Impress.

Then the infant caught his eye. _Hello, Doctor. My name is Telth, and I love you!_

It was the most intense psychic experience he'd ever had. Telth's infantile mind went straight for the spousal bonding point in the Doctor's mind, but to prevent that highly unwanted connection, he gently guided the baby into a more fraternal bond. He knew he could not reject Telth entirely, not when he knew he would die. He sighed and got down off his seat, moving down through the bleachers. "Oh, little one, why? With a thousand humans all around you, why choose this old man?" There were tears in his eyes as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

Telth said, _Because we need each other, Doctor. I love you and you love me. I'll always love you._ The Doctor grinned at him. He couldn't help it. _I'm hungry!_

He chuckled. "Then let's get you fed, Telth." He looked up to find an angry pair of Weyrleaders standing in front of him.


End file.
